


No Matter What Happens

by OrionMoonrise



Series: Thorns and Arrows [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3881497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionMoonrise/pseuds/OrionMoonrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compendium of tales of Warden-Commander Rose Cousland, Hero of Ferelden. Journey with her on her rise from rebellious daughter to Grey Warden exile to beloved Queen, and experience all of the turmoil, romance and adventure that ensued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_9:80 Dragon_

By some blessing of magic or The Maker, despite the fact that Ferelden was in the midst of the worst drought in three ages, the Denerim memorial gardens had bloomed and matured exceptionally well over the past five years. Queen Eleanor had decreed that the gardens should remain open to the public, so families and young couples often visited here to picnic on sunny afternoons. Adults could be heard sharing quiet conversations in shaded nooks while children laughed and played on the nine flower-lined paths that converged on the sunlit clearing at the center of the garden.

Visitors always kept a respectful distance from the ornate marble shrine in the middle of the grassy clearing, only coming close to admire the elaborate statuary or pay their respects at the final resting place of the most legendary figure in the history of Ferelden. On this particular day, two aged men were standing close to the shrine, saluting fist over heart as they read the words carved into the smooth face of the polished stone on the leftmost side of the sanctuary.

 _In Memory of King Alistair the Just_  
_Grey Warden_  
_Blood of Calenhad_

_Blessed are they who stand before_  
_The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter._  
_Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just._  
_-Benedictions 4:10_

After a few moments, a sudden wind picked up as the two men made their way to the other side of the stone monument. The scent of new spring roses carried itself to them on the breeze as they read:

 _Here Lies Rose of House Cousland_  
_Hero of Ferelden_  
_Warden Commander_  
_Beloved Queen, Wife, Mother_

_Now her hand is raised_  
_A sword to pierce the sun_  
_With iron shield she defends the faithful_  
_Let chaos be undone_  
_-Victoria 1:3_

“I can’t believe she’s been gone five years,” the first of the men said. Teyrn Fergus Cousland had never imagined he’d outlive his little sister after everything she had survived in her tumultuous life. “But here we are,” he thought to himself as he reached to lay a bunch of thistle blooms on top of the raised stone sarcophagus. Despite the fact that their parents had named her Rose, Highever thistle was always his sister’s favorite flower, and Fergus left a bouquet of them on her grave every time he visited Denerim.

“It seems like just yesterday,” his companion replied with a gravely sigh. “But time flies at our age.”

“Are we really that old?” Fergus laughed as he watched his oldest friend take a knee and bend down to carefully plunge the tip of a hand-carved arrow into the grass beside Rose’s grave. His friend was careful to line the arrow up with the other four arrows that were already jutting out of the grass there, one for each year she had been gone. “I still don’t understand the arrows, Nate. Are you ever going to explain it to me?”

“Maybe if you buy me a few pints, first.” This time it was Nathaniel Howe’s turn to laugh, but the sound died on his tongue as he stood up and glanced at the statue that stood above them. The sculptor had captured an incredible likeness of Rose and it was almost like she was standing there, blessing him with her smile and gentle gaze. Nathaniel felt his ancient knees start to waver, and steadied himself on the edge of the stone, bringing his free hand to the base of his throat, where it trembled as emotion threatened to overtake him. His voice was strained as he whispered, “Oh, Roz.”

“Come on, old friend,” Fergus said as he stepped toward Nathaniel and put a supportive arm across his shoulders. “She wouldn’t want us getting all maudlin. Let’s go grab those pints.”

Twenty minutes later, the two old friends had made their way from the garden to the Gnawed Noble Tavern and were just being served the first of many mugs of ale they’d share that evening, on the Cousland tab.

“So you have your pint now, you old grump,” Fergus said with a pointed look and wry smirk in Nathaniel’s direction. “Tell me about the arrows.”

“Well, it’s a long story…” Nathaniel started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first part of the re-modeled No Matter What Happens. The story has really evolved from the first version that I published, and it will only get more detailed from here. Please feel free to leave any comments, I welcome all feedback and opinions.


	2. Book 1 - Chapter 1

_9:10 Dragon_

“Bryce, where is Rose?” a rather frazzled looking Teyrna Eleanor Cousland asked as she threw open the door to her husband’s study, her blonde hair looking uncharacteristically mussed and her expression frantic. The two men sitting quietly within barely took notice of her entrance, only briefly pausing their chess game to acknowledge the woman’s question. 

“She’s not with Delilah?” Teyrn Cousland replied distractedly as he contemplated his next move and absent-mindedly stroked the auburn stubble on his chin. 

“She certainly is not,” Eliane Howe came into the study behind Lady Cousland, with a sour frown. “Delilah has been at tea with us for the last hour. My daughter knows how to behave like a lady.” 

“I suppose we’ll have to finish this game later, Rendon,” Bryce said, sliding his chair away from the table and ignoring Lady Howe’s subtle jab. “I need to go find a little lost pup.”

“That’s probably for the best, old friend,” Arl Rendon Howe drawled with a smirk as the men stood up. “I was very close to taking your queen.”

“You have never bested me at chess, Howe. And I don’t intend to let you start today,” Bryce replied with a good natured chuckle, elbowing Howe in the ribs, much to the shorter man’s scowling chagrin. 

The two men made their way out into the hallway, their wives following close behind. The dour looking Howe couple painted an interesting contrast to the sunnier Couslands, who even in a moment of panic and worry seemed collected and optimistic. Bryce made a beeline straight for the office of the captain of the guard, then indicated to the others that they should wait while he spoke with the man inside. After a few moments, the Teyrn’s boisterous laughter could be heard through the heavy wooden door and he came out smiling and shaking his head.

“Well? Where is she, Bryce?” Eleanor asked.

“According to Captain Gilmore, she was last seen headed to the garden, dragging the boys behind her,” Bryce said, struggling to stifle his laughter. “She was carrying three practice swords, a book and a sack of pastries from the larder.” 

“Maker’s breath!” Eliane Howe exclaimed. “Five years old, the youngest here, and she thinks she rules the roost.”

“Well, she is her mother’s daughter,” the Teyrn replied diplomatically with a wink in his wife’s direction. “Shall we go see what mischief she’s dragged them into?”

When they made their way out of the castle and into the garden, even Rendon Howe cracked a bemused smile at what they found there. Fergus Cousland was sitting on the lawn in a patch of sun, nibbling on a lemon cake and stabbing at the grass with the point of his wooden sword. Behind him, the other two children were in the shade, leaning against the trunk of a blooming rowan tree. 

Rose Cousland was covered in dirt and dried mud from head to toe, with drips of bright red strawberry jam spotting the front of her dress and twigs tangled in her pigtails. She was fast asleep, snoring lightly with her crumb covered mouth hanging slack. She was leaned against the Howe boy with her head resting gently against his arm. For his part, young Nathaniel was doing his best to be as still as a ten year old boy can be, sitting carefully against the tree and balancing an open book on top of his crossed legs. 

Arlessa Eliane was the first to break the quiet of the charming moment, striding over to her son and looming over him with her hands on her hips. The men followed close behind her while Teyrna Eleanor told Fergus to pick up his things and wash up for dinner. Fergus gathered up the toy swords and walked back into the castle dragging his feet, grumbling under his breath about how his baby sister ruined his plans to play with this friend today. 

“Nathaniel Howe,” the Arlessa said sharply, when the boy’s attention didn’t immediately turn to her. “What exactly do you think you are doing?” 

“She asked me to read her a story, mum,” Nathaniel replied. “She fell asleep.”

Teyrn Cousland bent down to extricate his daughter from her position curled around the younger Howe’s arm. She made a quiet noise of protest as he picked her up, scrunching her eyes tight and burying her face in her father’s neck. 

“C’mon pup,” he whispered as he kissed her messy hair and smoothed the back of her dress. 

“Why didn’t you wake her up and come inside when you knew it was almost time for dinner?” Rendon Howe asked Nathaniel as the Couslands turned to follow Fergus into the castle. He spoke to his son with a tone slightly kinder than the one his wife used, pitying the boy for being saddled with a cold witch for a mother.

“She looked so peaceful, papa,” the boy replied in an exaggerated whisper. “I didn’t want to disturb her.” 

“I suppose that’s fine, son,” Arl Howe said darkly, putting his arm around his son’s shoulders and urging him toward the open keep doors. “Just don’t get too attached to the girl.” 

“I won’t, father,” Nathaniel replied, turning his head to hide the crooked smile that spread across his face when he thought of all the fun he’d had playing with the Cousland children that afternoon. It was the best day he’d ever had in his entire life. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Chapter 1! After a lot of outlining and re-formatting, I've decided this fic is going to be broken up into three separate "books" that each tell a specific story. I hope you like this little fluff piece. Let me know what you think in the comments!


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